Todd Strasser - Wish You Were Dead

Adam had wracked his brain and told the investigator everything. Well, almost everything. He’d seen no reason to bring up the other person. Nor did he reveal that, now that he looked back on it, he wasn’t entirely surprised. When Lucy decided to do something, she always had to do it better than anyone else. And if that meant the worst thing imaginable, she’d still go for an A-plus.

“Want to go to the kegger?” Greg Stuart asked.

Riding shotgun in Greg’s car, Adam crept back from his tortured thoughts. They were just cruising around town, enlarging their carbon footprint.

Adam didn’t feel like a kegger. He didn’t want to be stared at and whispered about, or surrounded by a bunch of self-appointed Florence Nightingales showing lots of cleavage and earnestly telling him how sorry they were for his loss, and how certain they were that everything would work out, especially if he took their phone numbers.

But the one thing a kegger did offer was the opportunity to get royally, obscenely blitzed. He’d lived with this nightmare for a solid week, and he needed a break. Obliteration sounded wonderful.

“So?” Greg said, once again yanking Adam from his thoughts.

“Let’s do it.”

The kegger was in the woods beside a town ball field that was located behind a small strip mall that included a deli, auto body shop, and hair salon. Adam asked Greg to park in a dark corner of the parking area farthest from the ball field and said he’d stay by the car while Greg scoped out the scene and, hopefully, returned with something to drink.

Adam waited in the car while Greg went off into the dark. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement—someone walking across the ball field toward the woods. The silhouette didn’t look familiar, but then, it wasn’t like Adam knew the gait and profile of every guy at school.

A few moments later, another figure in the dark caught Adam’s attention. Greg returned with a forty of Miller Draft and half a bottle of JD. Unfortunately, the bottle of JD was attached to the hand of JB, otherwise known as Jake Barron.

Adam reached for the bottle and pressed the rim to his lips, the first gulp of bourbon burning as it tumbled down his throat, making his eyes water.

“What’s up?” Jake asked with a scowl when Adam finally returned the bottle. “How come you’re not in the woods with everyone else?”

“Don’t feel like it.” Adam unscrewed the top from the forty.

Jake shot a puzzled look at Greg.

“Lucy,” Greg said.

Jake nodded gravely. “Anything new?”

Adam shook his head and took a big gulp. The cold brew soothed the fire in his throat left by the Jack Daniels.

“Man, that is messed up,” said Jake.

Adam reached for the bottle of JD again. “Tell me about it.”

The conversation turned to college football but was soon interrupted by loud, girlish laughter coming from the direction of the kegger.

“Sounds like someone’s having fun,” Greg muttered wistfully, and both he and Jake peered toward the woods behind the baseball backstop.

Adam took another slug of the JD. This one didn’t burn nearly as much. “Don’t let me keep you guys.”

“You sure?” Greg asked.

Adam gestured to the forty-ounce bottle of beer. “Just leave this with me.”

Jake headed toward the woods. Greg hesitated, studying Adam uncertainly.

“Go on,” Adam said. “Have fun.”

He stayed by the car and nursed the forty. The beer and bourbon took away the pain, but not the thoughts. Lucy was still there in his mind. He could see her; he just couldn’t feel her.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Greg came through the dark with his arm around Reilly Bloom’s waist. Reilly, a tall girl with chestnut hair and freckles, was the captain of the volleyball team. Adam tipped the forty to his lips and was surprised to discover that it was empty. He didn’t remember finishing it.

“Uh, Reilly and I are gonna walk over to her house,” Greg said, almost apologetically. “Think you can catch a ride with someone else?”

Adam got the message loud and clear.

At the Safe Rides office, I picked up the desk phone. It was the first call of the night. “Hey, Mads, it’s Adam.” He was slurring his words. “It’s Adam” came out as “Sadddam.” “I’m at the deli by the ball field? The one by … by the …”

“Across the street from Tony’s Nursery.” I entered the information into the log. “Going to fifteen Sheffield?”

“Where else?”

“Five minutes,” I said, and hung up.

“Who was it?” Dave looked over from the other desk. He had the DVD control in his hand and had paused the movie when the phone rang. The two driving teams sitting around the TV raised their heads attentively.

“Adam,” I said.

“Maura and I’ll go,” Courtney blurted out eagerly. She started to rise, then stopped self-consciously when her eyes met mine. She’d finally arrived nearly half an hour late. Neither of us had said hello, but she’d given my outfit and makeup a curious look before settling down on the other side of the office.

Sharon was also getting up. “We already agreed that Laurie and I would do the first run tonight.”

Courtney’s eyes stayed on mine. I shrugged to let her know that I didn’t care who went. But Sharon was already on her feet. “Come on, Laurie. Lesbos to the rescue.”

The parking lot in front of the deli was empty. Adam sat on the curb before the dark storefront. His bladder was on the verge of bursting, but he was too dizzy to stand up and go. Each time he closed his eyes, the world began to spin, and he felt like he was going to be sick. So he concentrated on keeping his eyes fixed on the dimly lit Tony’s Nursery sign across the street.

But when his eyes focused, his mind seemed to focus as well, and the thoughts he’d drank so much to drown swam back to the surface. Where was Lucy? How did someone just disappear? What could have happened to her?

Just as they had all week, the questions feasted on his flesh, making him feel guilty and resentful. So where was the stupid Safe Rides car? It seemed like he’d been waiting a long time. It should have been here by now.

Above him a thin, gauzy haze drifted in front of the moon, causing a ring to glow dully in the night sky around it. Adam tilted his chin up and studied it. Thin air , he thought. What did that mean? If someone could disappear into thin air, did that mean someone could materialize out of it, too?

Courtney’s face materialized in his thoughts. That was where he wanted to be right now. In her arms. Wait! She drove for Safe Rides. Hope sprang into his mind and shook itself out like a wet dog. What if she came now? Wouldn’t that be a happy ending to a crappy night.

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a rag with a strong chemical smell was pressed against his face. In the same instant, his head was wrenched hard to the left as if a chiropractor were cracking his neck. Adam felt himself tumbling over onto his side. Whoever was behind him holding the rag to his face was trying to push him down to the ground. His left elbow hit the asphalt parking lot first, sending a searing pain up his arm and through his shoulder. But from deep in his alcohol-and chemically-addled brain, Adam sensed it was also his chance to stop his downward momentum and right himself. Just as he began to plant his hand on the ground to push back up, someone kicked his elbow out from under him. Adam went down, first on his shoulder and then on his back. The next thing he knew, a heavy weight was crushing his chest as if someone was sitting on him. The damp chemical rag was still pressed against his face, and with each struggling breath he took came that horrible, wet, chemical odor.

By the time his bladder involuntarily emptied, Adam was no longer aware of anything. His mind was as black and empty as deep space. Hands slid under his armpits and heaved him up. His heels dragged on the ground as he was lugged around the side of the deli and into the shadows.